Amiko: Adjustments – Part 2 (of 2)

She confessed to Renee that it was the vibrator that caused the irreconcilable rift between her and Marc. He had forbidden vibrators, claiming that they would be too intense on her tender flesh and would ruin her for the more subtle sensations of fingers and tongue. But, stubbornly, Amiko kept her vibrator for lonely nights.

One night, however, he came home earlier than expected. Ami didn’t know why the evening was shortened, but it didn’t matter in the end. As he quietly entered the bedroom, careful not to wake Amiko, he must have heard the buzzing of the forbidden contraption coming from Amiko’s padded pallet on the floor.

“Amiko!”

Immediately, she turned it off. The silence was thick. “Marc?”

The light flicked on and he stood in the bedroom doorway, thunder on his bearded face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I missed you,” she tried, sheepishly.

“Bull shit. I ought to make you eat that thing,” he raged. “If I didn’t think you’d enjoy it, I’d shove it up your ass and make you sit on it overnight!”

“I’m sorry.”

He stormed into the room and went right to the closet where he rummaged around for a few minutes, finally emerging with a large canvas bag. “Get your sorry ass over here, girl.”

Crawling, Amiko contritely came to him, kissing the toes of his shoes submissively and keeping her head down on the floor after the obeisance.

“Stay there.” It took him a few minutes, but soon he’d removed his clothing and lay prone on his big bed. “You will give me head. You will do it the way I taught you, and you will not be allowed to come at the end as you usually do. You will remain silent. Not one sound. I plan to pretend you’re someone else and I don’t want to hear Amiko noises. Do you understand?”

His rejection of her as a person stung deeply, but she replied, “Yes, sir,” from her position on the floor.

“Now!”

* * *

As Amiko related this all to Renee, she also explained what she imagined was on Marc’s mind as they coupled that night. Based upon his behavior, he was torn, but showing his usual self-discipline, he was firm. His thoughts were often written on his face.

He watched her approach on her knees, admiring the curve of her hip and the gentle sway of her small breasts as they hung from her chest. Her long, black hair draped around her like an ebony scarf, glinting blue-black in the light of the bedroom lamps. Marc was furious with her, but also resigned. It was time to move on. They’d come as far as they could go. She was too young to solidify the relationship into something more traditional, and he was certain that none of the traditionally-minded women he’d choose as a wife would want the young beauty around to create competition for his affections. The idea of two women squabbling over his time and attention didn’t appeal either. He wanted children and the comfort of a softly padded wife around.

Amiko climbed on the bed and raised her head to look up at him, seeking permission to touch him. He nodded.

Immediately, she began to kiss his thighs, running her hands over his belly and legs, feather-light, stirring the hairs on his middle ever-so-slightly. Her mouth drew nearer to his growing cock. By the time her pink tongue touched the place where his balls began, he was fully erect and losing his anger. Relentlessly, she stroked him with tongue and fingers, reserving her tongue for his cock alone. One of her hands caressed and kneaded his balls as her tongue made its way up along his phallus to the dark pink head. She held him steady as she laved the head carefully, paying careful attention to the critical place where she knew he was most sensitive. The scent of her was floral soap mixed with excited woman. He made a small sound, barely a vocalized exhalation of air, at once both interested and stern-sounding. Marc wanted her to know that she was to continue to please him in the way she’d been taught, as well as that he had not forgotten her misbehaviour.

She gently passed her teeth over the bulbous head and he reached out to run his fingers through her hair, finally wrapping a handful around his fingers to tug, reminding her exactly who was mastering whom. Amiko was quiet, only the sound of Marc’s roughening breathing stirring the stillness of the room. Her tongue snuck around and around, up then down until she paused, licking a drop of pre-cum off with greedy quickness, as though Marc was going to withhold it from her out of pique.

He wanted to fantasize that she was someone else, as he warned her, but, in fact, there was no one else to be his fantasy girl. Amiko was his lacy, sexy pleasure-tool, and at twenty-one she was becoming someone both adept and potent. When she popped his cock in her mouth and began to take him deep, he wondered if he could do it, actually give her away and see her enmeshed in someone else’s sensual web.

The sensation of the back of her throat on his stiff flesh drew his attention back to the girl and only the girl. She sucked and slid him out of her mouth and back in again, finding a rhythm that would inexorably bring him to climax. He pulled at her hair, applying steady pressure so that she would remember her place. In a small way—perhaps a cruel way—he hoped she’d make a sound, any sound, so that he could punish her more rudely than he planned. He resented her hold over him. However, he was in charge of both her and himself, even as she was performing so eagerly on his cock.

She increased the rhythm, and he once again lost track of anything but each passing moment and the building heat in his balls. Soon…it would come soon.

His hand left her hair and slid over her arm and under to cup her breast. The small mound was familiar, welcome in his large hand. He found a tender nipple and gave it a pull, enjoying her small shudder and the closing of her eyes as the pain crept over her. He rolled the nipple in his fingers, squeezing it hard and releasing it with a twist. Her breath was fast now, her scent growing stronger and a flush stole over her face. In the past, he had allowed her to orgasm in response to these trifling excitements, but not tonight.

Marc explored the skin of her side, her flat belly, and her hip. She was perfectly formed, her curves a sensual pleasure, a visceral enticement. His orgasm neared; it was so close, so very close. Once again his hand stole under her body and he grasped her breast, squeezing the firm flesh until he felt her silent gasp as a cool zephyr along his wet cock. He raised his hips and found her head with his big hand, guiding her faster against him, pounding her throat with his hardness, stealing her breath away until all she could do was gasp when he allowed her to breathe.

Although anticipated, the moment of his release was almost a surprise, as it always was. One moment he was a randy animal, and the next he was seeing stars and galaxies, holding his breath and then releasing it with a grunt of pure pleasure. He held her head steady, his semen shooting into her hot throat until it abated. Finally, he let go of her. She raised her head, gasping for air, eyes closed and lashes spiky with unshed tears.

Marc let her recover as he was recovering, too. Although his blood pressure had dropped with his ejaculation, he refused to fall into sleep; there was still one more chore to perform. He rested, fighting Morpheus. His voice was gravelly but firm when he said, “Get up, Amiko. Move back down to the floor and wait.”

She nodded, heeding his order to be quiet, and crawled off the bed to kneel up nearby, her head bowed, her lips red from recent use.

Marc swung himself off the bed, and coolly reached for his canvas bag. A little rummaging and he found what he wanted: a leather paddle. It was perhaps seven inches long, a rectangle with a narrower handle. It was made of doubled, firm but supple leather and snapped smartly when he tested it against his palm. Ami jumped at the sound, and though she never turned her gaze up, her bottom lip trembled.

“You may speak.” Her head rose and she cast her dark eyes on him. “Are you afraid, Ami? Do you realize how angry you made me?”

Amiko’s voice was shaky and she cleared her throat before speaking. “Yes, sir.” Her eyes went to the paddle in his hand, then back up to his face.

“I plan to tan your behind with this paddle, girl. I plan to make sure that for the next few days you remember how pissed off I can be.” He slapped his palm with the paddle again; it hurt his calloused hand, but it would be much worse on Amiko’s tender fanny. “And, I am going to throw out that vibrator. Do you have any others?”

She shook her head.

“Good.” Marc moved to sit on the edge of the bed and patted his thighs. “Come here.”

* * *

Amiko didn’t want to go to him, and yet she wanted to pay the price for her disobedience. Once she’d been punished, it would be over and they could go on as they’d done before. His anger would be gone, the tears would dry, and she would be returned to his affections. She crawled to him and then rose to spread herself over his lap. He’d spanked her before, though he’d always used just his hand. That had been bad enough, but that paddle looked and sounded much, much worse.

“Count.”

“Yes, sir.”

The first strike came swiftly, before she could tense in preparation. It stung terribly on her left butt cheek.

“One, sir,” she said on a gasp.

Another stroke of the paddle and her right butt cheek got hot. “Two, sir!”

The third smack made her jump as it landed on the underside and middle of her bottom, spanning that tender flesh cruelly. She began to sob.

“Count, Amiko, or I’ll start over.”

“Three, sir!”

By twelve, she was crying fully; by fifteen she began to beg him to stop. Her butt was on fire. She felt as though the tender skin had been flayed from her behind, that she was raw, every nerve screaming as she wished she could do.

At the end of the twentieth stroke, he put the paddle down and pushed her off his lap.

“Go to your bed.”

No cuddling. No warm post-spanking embrace. No forgiveness offered. It was the most cruel thing he could have done. The pain of her tortured flesh was nothing in comparison to the pain in her heart.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she sobbed. “Please forgive me.”

“You are forgiven, but I’m tired. We will talk about this more tomorrow, Amiko. Now go to your bed.”

* * *

Three days later, she was transferred to another man. She went willingly, realizing that she needed the imposed discipline of a dominant male. Too, she knew that she was still naïve, and she trusted Marc to find her the right situation and the right person to shift her obedience to. Over the next year, she was with two more dominant men; men who considered her precious property, and in many ways she was spoiled and cosseted. Her formal training was nearly complete, her spirit unbroken when she met the Master, Kevin Watson. He took her breath away.

* * *

Renee considered her own training experiences, so different from Amiko’s and yet leading to the same place, the same man. She was attracted to the younger woman both sexually and as a person. Having Amiko around was going to be an adjustment for each of them, but perhaps something particularly special could come of it. She trusted their Master to find the way.

I love Amiko’s story, and I find your writing of both her and Renee’s story so subtly erotic. Having already read Master of Two, it is great to be able to read about their backgrounds and how they came to the life they did. A lovely story.

Thank you, Rachel. I’m delighted and flattered that you’ve enjoyed these stories. I love all my characters, but these people are real so they’re near and dear to me in many ways. (They’re real, but not gallivanting all over Europe to rescue Amiko. Hey, it’s fiction. 🙂 )